I shrugged again. “I’m home now, and with you guys. I’ll get back in shape. Hell of a diet plan, though, isn’t it?”
Marilyn turned serious. “Carl, what happened to you? You were just supposed to go to Honduras for a few months and come home. Then you were reported lost and dead, and then you were under arrest, and then you were in the hospital. I don’t understand! What happened to you?”
I sighed and told her. It took a good solid hour to explain things, since Marilyn didn’t have the military background that Featherstone did. I glossed over the part with the prisoners, simply repeating my story that I released them and fired some shots in the air to hurry them along. (Yeah, hurry them along on their way to perdition. I was sure they would be there to greet me at some point in the future.)
She was simply speechless at the end of it. Charlie had drunk his fill and was snoozing in his stroller. I finished by saying, “And that’s it. Now they have to operate on my leg and give me some rehab, and I’m out. I won’t be Captain Buckman much longer, honey.”
“After all that, they just throw you out? Like garbage? That’s terrible! Can’t you do something about it!?”
I was surprised by that, since Marilyn isn’t the real gung-ho type. She wasn’t real big on the Army to begin with. Maybe it was like when you are cleaning out a kid’s closet and find the toy in the back they haven’t played with in a year. You go to throw it away, and they toss a tantrum about it.
“It will be fine, Marilyn. We won’t have to move to Oklahoma now, will we?” I said, putting a good face on it. It still galled me, but I could live with it. “Seriously, I might never walk without a limp again. I’ll never have a command again.”
“And that’s important to you?” she asked.
And right then and there I knew it was. I didn’t know what I was going to do in the future, but I knew I would have to be the boss. I looked out the window for a moment and then turned back. “Yeah, it is. It’d be like working in an ice cream store and never getting to lick the scoop. I’d go crazy. Don’t worry about it, we’ll be all right.”
Marilyn gave me a very odd look as I said that. “Carl, we need to talk about that, too. I found your letter.”
“Huh? What letter?”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a big manila envelope and my jaw dropped and my eyes opened wide. Oh, shit! That letter!
“You weren’t supposed to read that, unless, well, you know!” The envelope had a label on it specifying, ‘Open only in the event of my demise.’, and had been in my dresser, under my briefs and underwear. I rubbed my hands over my face. Most soldiers have a letter like that, at least in the combat outfits. They either have one already made up, or write it just before they deploy, or sometimes they wait until the last minute and hand it to somebody back at the base before heading out on patrol or a jump. I had written mine back after we got married, and I updated it every few months after that.
“Dear Marilyn,
If you are reading this, then you’ll know that I finally managed to make that jump without my chute on properly. Mom always said I’d come to no good, so I guess she was right all along.
You were the best thing I ever had in my life. You are better than I ever deserved. If I was to live a hundred lives, I would want you in each of them. I love you more than you can imagine. Please forgive me for not being good enough for you.
I am sorry I wasn’t a better husband to you. You deserved a better man than me. Now, with you carrying our baby, I leave you alone with him (or her) and I wish I could have seen you with him. You will be a wonderful mother, and probably a much better father than I would have been. I am so sorry for that.
Someday you will meet somebody else, a man who will see in you all the wonderful things that I saw in you. He’ll be a better man than I was, that’s for sure. When it is time for you to move on, know that I want you to be happy. You deserve a good man.
As one last note, I want you to take the inner envelope to John Steiner, in Timonium, Maryland. His address is on the label. John has been my attorney for many years, and he wrote up my will, and will help you through all the probate and paperwork. Listen to him carefully. He’s a very smart man, and a good friend.
Again, I love you beyond words and writing. You have been the best thing in my life, and know that no matter what happened to me, my last thoughts were of you.
Love,
Carl”
The inner envelope contained a copy of my will and my most recent brokerage account statements, along with written instructions to John, Missy Talmadge, and my accountant about helping Marilyn manage her money. Marilyn had opened this envelope as well. Both letters were smudged and spotted and crinkled up, and it took me a few seconds to realize it was from tears. I felt even lower than before.
Marilyn was crying as she watched me read the letter I had written her. “How can you say things like that? I love you! I’ll never find a man better than you! You know I hate it when you run yourself down like that!”
Oh, shit! I opened my arms and she collapsed against my chest, crying. In doing so, she shifted on the bed and nudged my right leg, which made me want to scream, but I held it in. Better to lose the damn thing than piss her off any more. I just caressed her back and told her repeatedly that I loved her and was sorry for making her cry.
Eventually she relented and sat up again, once more hitting my leg, and I bit my tongue a second time. I also hit the button to call the nurse and get some morphine going! Marilyn picked up the second envelope and waved it at me. “I read through this, but I don’t understand. You have a brokerage account that’s worth millions of dollars? That can’t be right!”
I rubbed my face again, and smiled at my wife. “Actually, it is. Marilyn, I’m a millionaire. A multimillionaire, actually. I’m probably worth about thirty-five million by now, maybe a bit more. I’m not sure, actually.”
“You don’t know!” she asked, a look of astonishment on her face.
“Honey, it’s not like I’ve had a chance to look at the Wall Street Journal lately. It’s not just in cash, it’s in stocks, too.”
“When? How? Why didn’t you say something!?”
“I was going to tell you soon, anyway. I’ve been trading stocks since I was a kid. I’m very good at it. I made my first million before I ever met you. It’s how I could buy a car and have my own apartment back when I was a teenager living in Maryland.”
“You should have said something!”
“I was going to. I didn’t tell anyone. Can you imagine the nuttiness if they’d known about this at the frat house!? Or girls? How would I know if they loved me or my wallet!? You loved me for me! I was going to tell you when we moved to Fort Sill. I told you I would buy you a house, right?”
“Yes,” she agreed, nodding her head.
“I was going to pay cash, no mortgage. Captains don’t have that kind of money, Marilyn. I was going to tell you then.”
Marilyn just stared at me, stunned. Finally she just muttered, “Wow!”
“It wasn’t a lie, honey! I just didn’t tell you everything!” I pleaded with her.
She swatted me a few times with the letters, which got rid of whatever mad she had, which couldn’t have been much. “You and your sins of omission and commission! You’d have made a fine Jesuit!”
I smiled at her. “I’d never be able to handle the vows of celibacy!”
Marilyn blushed, and her eyes dropped down to my midsection. When I caught her doing that, she blushed even more. However, she recovered, and said, “Speaking of which…”
“Ah, yes, well, nothing is happening anytime soon. They’ve got a catheter in me. I have no idea when that’s coming out. Soon, I hope. What about you? Are you able to, well, you know…”